It's Complicated
by Consistently Inconsistant
Summary: Tucker has finally gotten a girlfriend, but somehow he seems more depressed than ever. Even stranger, he goes to great lengths to keep Danny and Sam out of his business. He claims they don't take him seriously, and maybe he's right. That doesn't mean he isn't also hiding a major secret from them; namely, how hopeless this relationship is, and why it hurts so much. Tucker/OC, D/S.
1. Observance

**AN:** So my first story, which I had promised myself would not be cliche... is a Tucker/OC romance fic. I'm sorry. I know that premise has been done more times on here than the Carameldansen has on YouTube. It's probably not going to be as original or as emotional as I hoped it might be, but once the idea crawled into my mind it just simply would not die. Eventually I decided that even if I fail miserably, writing something is always better than nothing. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. This is my attempt at fic and I'm hoping either it'll be good or people will help me understand how to make it good.

Please note no Sam or Danny bashing will be going on in the long term. There's some angst and some misunderstandings, but name a group of high school friends that _hasn't_ accidentally said the wrong things to one another. Nobody's a bad guy here, they're just prone to normal lapses of judgment.

* * *

Tucker had been acting weird.

As the only person with any romantic sense out of the trio of friends, Sam recognized the signs of a crush when she saw them. There was the embarrassingly unmanly sigh as he gazed out the windows, something that never failed to make her groan inwardly. Then he began spacing out during their conversations, usually masking it by pretending to be consumed in his new iPhone. An iPhone that had, currently, a girl's picture for the background, although Sam had never gotten a good enough look at it to tell who it was. He had squeaked when she tried to look at it and pocketed it immediately. He had even begun the most girly crush behavior in the book: doodling their initials in his notebook.

He would have been embarrassing himself if anyone had been able to figure it out. But Tucker's normal approach to seeing a cute girl was to throw himself at her headfirst with not-really-admirable-anymore gusto, and this time he was just keeping his distance. Maybe all the rejections had gotten to him. Maybe this was serious and not fleeting this time. Sam wasn't sure if this was improvement or not. On the one hand, it was nice for him to show the opposite gender some respect. On the other hand, he was becoming increasingly absent from both her life and Danny's. He seemed distant, sometimes not even noticing their jokes or smiles and just muttering 'yeah' without the barest hint of enthusiasm. It was different somehow, significant; things had changed since she began dating Danny, but Tucker was never this aloof before.

Danny seemed to not notice at first, with ghost activity picking up. He was busy, exhausted and often struggling to get through schoolwork. Then even his alarm bells went off. Tucker was just being so obvious. Even if he was trying to conceal it, he was really bad at that, having never done it before. The whole thing was poorly suited to Tucker's naturally enthusiastic, talkative personality. It was baffling to both of them, though, why he hadn't approached whoever this was. Or maybe he had. He had apparently spent more than one lunch period in the school computer lab lately. If Danny had been a less moral person he'd have just gone invisible and poked his head in to end the growing awkwardness. Unfortunately, he was above the obvious solution on the basis he wouldn't want Tucker doing the same to him. Sam had to agree. She didn't like it, but she agreed.

So she had asked him. It was the more mature thing to do, and it seemed like somebody had to be the first person to address the issue. With Danny MIA half the time due to paranormal activity, it might as well be her.

"Tucker, what is _with_ you lately?" Okay, not her best approach, but it came after a minute and a half of saying his name and getting no response until she waved a hand in front of his face.

"What do you mean?" he asked, not looking up from his iPhone.

"I mean, who is it you're going out with? You don't have to hide anything from me. Or Danny – we're your friends," she stressed, watching him pause. The discomfort on his face was obvious. "You know, I don't think there's a girl in this school with the initials I. A. U. I don't even think I know a boy with those initials."

"...she doesn't go to this school," he said after a long pause, looking at the iPhone and not her, the screen reflecting a smaller version of the picture he kept on his phone. And he seemed so uncharacteristically sad for a moment she felt bad for bringing it up. Then he volunteered, his voice gaining more determination, "I don't care about that, though. And she doesn't either."

"That's great." Sam smiled, but noted his teal eyes still wouldn't meet her lilac ones. "So how come you didn't tell me and Danny? It sounds like you two have it worked out even if she's a private school kid."

"You're just going to think I'm being stupid." He scoffed, pocketing his phone. "Everyone does. Nobody believes I can be serious about someone."

"That's not true. It's just all news to me. I mean, you never even mentioned a girl who's a friend." She studied his serious expression, and felt a pang of guilt. "If I've ever made you feel like I don't take you seriously, I'm sorry. Ever since I got together with Danny, I feel like we've been leaving you out sometimes. But you're like a brother to me. Whoever you're dating, I'm sure she's awesome. And I don't think you're being stupid. I took years to figure Danny out when he was _right in front of me_. How could I think anyone was stupid after that?"

"...you know me. How I've hit on every girl in school. I don't blame anybody for thinking I'm as shallow as a puddle." He looked so forlorn Sam hugged him on the spot. "No, stop. Seriously. It's okay."

"Oh, Tuck. It's really not. I never meant for you to feel like that."

"Sam. People are _staring_. It's fine. I'm fine. Everything's fine now that I have her."

The sentiment was so blatantly romantic it just about gave her a headache to hear it out of his mouth. But that was the problem, wasn't it? That she had always pegged him as being interested in a couple of dates and nothing more. Danny had done the same thing. They'd hurt him, that much was clear. Why else would he go to these kind of lengths to keep her identity a secret, even now? Of course he didn't want them to meet her. They'd ruin it for him. Maybe they had been all along. Every teasing remark she'd ever made to him went through her mind.

"Tucker. I'm sorry."

He slipped out of her grip and muttered something about needing to go as the bell rang. The lack of acknowledgement stung. Then again, so had all the needling she and Danny had done about him being willing to ask out anything that moved. She watched his retreating form, noticing how he couldn't help but take out his iPhone to look at whoever it was again. A smile instantly formed on his face, gentle and real, a small one more reserved for tender moments than day to day life. Sam wondered how many of his smiles and laughs had been forced after they had beaten this topic, this joke into the ground.

She didn't see his face fall as he collapsed into his desk in Mr. Lancer's class, looking right at his notebook the entire time Lancer went on about Anne of Green Gables and Anne being in love with Gilbert even though they were separated for three years. He tuned out at some point in the reading. He needed no further study on being far away from someone he… felt intensely about. This whole lesson was like systematic torture, the universe laughing at him, pointing out just how unlikely it was he would ever have what Danny and Sam had.

After all, behind the girl on his iPhone, the Northern Lights shone brightly in the background, spanning across a pitch black sky like a green and gold halo.


	2. People

**AN:** No lie, I was too scared to check the reviews for a bit. Thank you everyone for reviewing! This chapter is one of few that will focus more on the OC in this equation, as I wanted to flesh her out and not have her be the generic love interest. After this chapters will probably focus on both of them equally, but I felt it was important to establish who she is and how they got into this mess of a relationship first.

See room for improvement? Is there anything you'd like to see addressed in the future? Is there anything I'm doing wrong? Feel free to tell me via either review or PM. This is my first story. I **need** feedback right now to grow as an author. I don't want to review whore, I want to get advice to give you all a better story. No comment is stupid or bad. Never feel intimidated or like you can't tell me where I'm messing up. Reviews are how I grow.

* * *

Imagine spending an entire lifetime alone.

Not without people, no, but without someone who truly looked at you as a person. Parents aside, days went by, devoid of true conversations. Words were exchanged, video games were gushed over and jokes were made, and yet at the end of the day, some part of you whispers you're only there because you're useful. A geek. Geeks are good tools to use in ghost hunting and they're good fodder for jokes and an icebreaker of a third wheel. Tucker had sat down with his friends time and time again and felt invisible. Alone. He wasn't really being heard. They didn't understand. So after a while he'd learned to keep his serious thoughts inside where they couldn't be mocked.

He was alone. He was a genius, his computer skills were so amazing he'd been offered college scholarships already. Tucker was working on those. Danny and Sam could handle ghost hunting without him; they'd proven that lately. He wasn't missed. He wasn't important enough to be missed. One time he skipped out on meeting them and just hung out in his room, watching the phone. It never rang. Tucker was a third wheel. He wasn't needed. Not one girl in Amity Park found him worth talking to. He spent more than a few nights alone with his computer.

Tucker had wanted to be a paranormal investigator before Danny came along. He'd had all these dreams, spots he'd go look into, equipment he'd build, things he'd do. He would be famous and he would debunk those horrible people who pulled off hoaxes. When Tucker was younger he'd watched shows on various paranormal entities. He'd had his own dreams once. He would solve things with technology, prove them or disprove them with his inventions. He would patent things and he would be known as _somebody_, as a real person.

And then there was a blog. About science, yes, but what made it stand out was the underlying theme of loneliness. Every post was laden thickly with the pain of someone who had no one who considered them a real person. These were the posts of a girl who had no friends and so many dreams her heart was about to burst, someone who wanted to help the world with science, help create technology. Her plans were laid out in details, without the clinical attachment of an average scientist, with the passion of someone who truly was trying to help. She wanted to examine ghosts in an ethical manner. She knew they were people. Why other people didn't believe her, why they treated them as menaces, she didn't know, but she had all this documentation of perfectly harmless ghosts. She cared. She wanted to help. And no one would give her the time of day even online.

He'd sent her an email. And then another. And then he found himself pouring his heart out in one long tearful message about how he _knew_ what it was like and he was here if she wanted to talk, they didn't have to keep their heads up and act like it was all okay all the time. She wasn't alone. _Tucker_ wasn't alone.

She responded. He had almost been too afraid to read the email. Once he opened it, though, he scarcely spent a minute that weekend not talking to her. They had lived the same life. It had been an existence that had faded to gray, and now a bit of the color and warmth was returning with her every message and line. He opened up more than even he knew he could. He'd never thought he had it particularly hard, but underneath his smiles there was so much bottled up inside he couldn't stand it. Things spilled out. Conversations went from whether or not Equilibrium was a good movie to darker things like those frightening moments they felt invisible and worthless to the world.

Of course he asked where she lived. And of course they exchanged pictures.

That was why, in the distant north, almost on top of the world, Imaani Akiani Uqumaittu of Cape Dorset, Canada had a picture of Tucker James Foley of Amity Park, USA on her phone. She ran a thumb over it to swipe the snow off time and time again when she was outside, smiling at the cheesy grin on his face. He was a dork. That was good, because so was she. The same day Tucker had his first fight with Sam, Imaani fiddled with her iPhone under her desk, sending him a link to the latest ghost hunting podcast she'd found as well as a link to a video discussing ethics and technology. Other people always laughed at her for what she was into. The people in her town were still sewing animal hides together and their blankets were made out of fur, and she was a freak holding delusions of a scientific future that hadn't even hit the States yet. She was a fool. She wasn't living in reality. People pitied her.

But Tucker made her feel like she was a genius. It got so lonely, and she tried so hard to be normal. She did her chores, she helped sew things, she repaired little things around the house, she could even do some beadwork, and she spoke her Inuktitut loudly and rapidly when accused of turning white. She believed in spirits and helped with the online project to catalog their language. Imaani worked so hard sometimes she thought she was going to collapse. She wrote down story after old story, keeping a reference of the past preserved. And it wasn't enough. It was never enough. When she tried to join in the games the other girls played she was always laughed at and pushed away. She was stuck watching at the best of times. Nothing would ever make her fit in. The only place she felt safe was in the glow of a computer screen.

Tucker was the only one who didn't think she was doing it wrong. She wasn't bad at being Inuit or bad at being a girl to him. She was just a friend. A person. He treated her like a normal person. It was natural and comforting to curl around her phone and talk to him until the battery gave out. They didn't need other people. They had each other. They weren't alone now. Romance didn't enter into either of their minds for a long time. Neither of them was aware it was anything more than a real friendship at long last. It was such a relief to speak and be taken seriously that they didn't even realize the kind of things they were confiding in each other. They shared everything. Their secrets rushed out like dams breaking. Speaking was as natural as breathing. They could talk about bad music and stupid people at school and all the things that made them lose sleep at night and those awful moments they'd been the butt of jokes at school. It was like something missing had finally clicked into place.

It was only when she hung up on him one day she made the mistake that tipped them both off to what was really happening. She didn't say goodbye to him, which would have been 'takulaarivuguk'. She said, "Nalligusuktunga, Tucker."

_I feel like I could love you, Tucker._

And she'd have taken it back, but while Imaani was many things, she wasn't a liar. She hung up and flung her phone at a pile of laundry, burying her face in her hands. No, no, no. This wasn't supposed to happen and they both knew why. This was one of the oldest and most traditional communities left to the Inuit. She was not in any way cleared to fall head over heels for some American boy right now or ever. Even if his voicemails were what got her out of bed sometimes, this was just never going to work. Even though he was the one she Skyped in to talk to weekly, even though he knew everything from her personal experiences with ghosts to her favorite food, there was one major thing standing between Imaani Uqumaittu and Tucker Foley:

She'd been arranged to be married since she was four.


	3. Qiajuq

**AN:** I think the greatest compliment I've ever gotten is 'this is your first?' It's true I've taken a lot of writing classes, and I've tried to write things before but never been brave enough to put them on the site. But I assure you, this is definitely my first story in the sense it's the first thing I've put out on here or written a second chapter for.

Since Imaani is Inuit, words from her language will pop up. Specifically, since she's in Cape Dorset (or Kinngait, as it's called in Inuit) her language is the South Qikiqtaaluk dialect. Words she uses therefore may not match up with what Google will tell you the words' meanings are. See, every single community of Inuit on Earth has a different way of spelling words and a different meaning can therefore be assigned to one word across the Arctic. I'll try not to overuse South Qikiqtaaluk for that very reason, and I'll always provide translations. I've read some otherwise good stories that didn't provide translations for Japanese used in them, and I know it can get confusing. On that note, the chapter title means 'crying', and is gender neutral and can therefore refer to any character here.

Enough of my babbling! Thank you to everyone for the reviews, faves and follows. They really boost my confidence. I have no idea why I was scared to post here before, haha. This fandom seems so welcoming. Thanks for giving an awkward newbie a chance.

* * *

It is at this point everything would have been better if Imaani's husband-to-be was a jerk.

Unfortunately, Ukiaq Piqati was a nice guy. He was a craftsman, a good worker, eager to make things when people needed them and keep tradition alive. His father didn't particularly care, since Ukiaq would never be as good as his older brothers, but Ukiaq was willing to die trying, literally if need be. He would work whole nights trying to make things the way he'd been taught, but no matter how good he was at things, he was never as outstanding as Qurlurniq, Timmiat or Isuqtaq. Imaani pitied him more than anything. His brothers were shining stars and he would just never be good enough, but he tried. He tried so hard his hands were calloused and his arms had scars from working with knives and leather and ice, and yet he always had a smile for her.

That was what killed her. He just wanted a friend. He'd never kissed her, or tried to romance her, he'd just talked. He always wanted to know what he was doing wrong. She was smart, and he knew it, so he asked her how he could improve. And he was so desperate of course she helped him. Of course she was there to hold ice to his cheek when his father hit him so hard his eye was swollen shut. Even though he was a year older than her, somehow he seemed so much younger in those moments. Imaani had never held his hand, but she'd held him close while he cried and wondered why he wasn't good enough. And then the next day Ukiaq would be back at it, building a sled with his bare hands like nothing had happened.

Ukiaq thought that if he tried hard enough, eventually his father would love him. Eventually things would get better. He always had a smile, even if it was peppered with bruises. He wasn't living in reality; anyone could see his father didn't care about his youngest son compared to his elder three children, who were all magnificently talented hunters and incredibly good looking. To be fair to Ukiaq, he wasn't ugly. He just wasn't going to stop Cape Dorset with his small ponytail of black hair, large gray eyes and lanky, long limbed body. He was a little too thin, and he was awkward on his feet sometimes, even if his brother Isuqtaq told him he would grow out of it and burst forth like an Arctic fern.

Not that Imaani was going to win any prizes. She had a round face and a snub nose, with dark inky eyes and black hair that was long enough to sit on. She was short for her age, and admittedly flat chested compared to other girls. And oh yes, they noticed. And they made comments. And Ukiaq would fire back at them that she was the one with a boyfriend, not them, and her heart would sink. She shouldn't have fallen in love with Tucker. It was stabbing Ukiaq in the back when life had already kicked him in the balls.

She didn't love him. But she would have given anything to be able to protect him.

* * *

Tucker smiled as he fiddled with his iPhone.

He was attached to it now, knowing it was his main line of communication to Imaani. He scrolled through the pictures she'd sent him. There was her, and her parents asleep on the couch in front of the TV (cute, even he had to admit it), her little sister Kuuk who had just turned seven, and an epic snowfort built by the kids in Cape Dorset. It seemed so surreal, so far away, but everyone was so normal. He remembered building snow forts when he was a kid. Some things were universal. One thing he'd learned from talking to Imaani was people weren't very different even on the top of the world. They were normal kids and normal obnoxious teenagers and everybody had parent issues like here. The only major difference was the language push. Tucker had taken a year of French starting this semester because it was required to graduate, but Imaani had explained to him there was a push for Inuit people to know Inuktitut, English and French.

As bad as his homework was, he had to admit that paled in comparison. But as he sat in the corner of the Nasty Burger, eating an incredibly unhealthy and delicious Bacon Burger Supreme, he flipped to the picture he dreaded most. Ukiaq and Imaani, building a snow fort. The act was innocent enough. It was the knowledge this guy had gotten there first that made his appetite threaten to leave. He didn't seem like a bad guy from what Imaani had said about him, but they weren't in love. They weren't a couple. They just had to be, and that was what was so hard for all of them, Tucker included. He put his phone in his pocket and sighed, looking at his half finished burger forlornly.

"Hey, Tuck."

He looked up, seeing a sheepish looking Danny holding his own burger, looking awkward. "Hey, man. I thought you and Sam were going to see a movie tonight."

"Yeah… we were, but she said you were feeling kind of down, and that's more important. The movie will still be there tomorrow."

He sat down across from Tucker, watching his face for any hint of emotions. There were dark rings under Tucker's eyes, but otherwise he looked impassive. It was eerie to see Tucker be blank. Normally he was so expressive, so vivid. Sam was right, something was wrong, but she'd insisted he needed to talk to Tucker himself. She wasn't going to hand out anyone's secrets. That just wasn't who Sam was. It was one of the reasons Danny loved her so much; she was someone he could confide in. And she was right, he really needed to spend more time with Tucker lately. Tucker had tracked down all kinds of internet articles to help Danny plan dates that were actually romantic. He owed it to be there for Tucker and… his friend? Girlfriend? Sam hadn't given details.

"Did Sam send you?" Tucker asked, savvy to the ways of their resident Goth princess.

"Yep. With no information or ammo. But if she asks, it was a total success," Danny said, and Tucker smiled, rolling his teal eyes. "Hey, I'm trying, here. All she told me is that she and I went over the line joking about you, and… I'm sorry. I want to try and make that right but I don't know what I'm doing. Why didn't you say something before?"

"You wouldn't have listened."

Danny tried to come up with a rebuttal. Unfortunately it was true. He would have made a joke out of it. He was under so much stress from ghost fighting the only way he could cheer himself up was by making everything into a sarcastic remark or a punchline. It made the days so much easier. It had never been done with the intent to hurt his best friend. He just wanted to have something to smile about. Danny looked at Tucker, at the half eaten bacon burger he was half heartedly nibbling on, at the circles under his eyes and his sad eyes. He felt like a jerk. Unfortunately, he had a feeling this was not going to be resolved over a single dinner together.

"Tucker, are you okay?"

"I am now."

"So you _weren't_ at one point," Danny pointed out, feeling dread settle over him. "And I didn't even notice. I'm such a complete tool."

"No, you were just… busy. It's okay. I mean – look, I'm not happy right now, but it's got nothing to do with you. Mostly."

Danny ignored the bait that was the word 'mostly' to go after the meat of the issue. "Then what _does_ it have to do with, Tuck?"

"…Sam really didn't tell you."

"Tell me what?" the white teen asked, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. "Please just tell me. I'm trying to help."

"What if you couldn't?" Tucker asked slowly, looking him in the eyes and setting down his burger. "What if this time, no amount of video games and junk food or ghost powers and fighting is going to make things better?"

"Then I'd still want to know about it."

"Why?"

"Because I care about you. And you were there for me when I _changed species_. I owe it to you to try and at least be a morale booster here."

Tucker shut his eyes for a long moment and took a deep breath. "I have a girlfriend."

Danny paused, waiting for him to continue.

"No jokes? No 'really, Tucker, what is it?' No 'that's not funny'?" the black boy sighed, looking up at Danny with a mixture of past pain, tiredness, anger, and hope. "I'm waiting for the snarky remark here."

"Tucker… I'm sorry." An awkward moment of silence passed before Danny said, "I don't get why a girlfriend would bum you out, though."

"Her parents don't want her dating a black guy."

Danny recoiled as if struck. "_What?!_"

"You heard me."

"How do your parents feel about it?"

"They don't know. I haven't told them yet," Tucker admitted quietly. "I don't want this to get any more complicated than it already is. I never meant for any of this to happen."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Danny inquired, feeling hopeless even as his mind reeled in shock.

Tucker stood up, leaving his half eaten food behind. He kept his gaze on the ground, and one hand slid into his pocket to grasp his iPhone firmly. He nodded, and without looking back at Danny, made a decision out loud that was probably several degrees of unwise. But he thought of all the jokes that had been made at his expense, and he just couldn't bring himself to trust Danny with everything. There had been a time that he wouldn't even have hesitated to tell him everything. That was then. This was now.

"Yeah. Stay out of my business and don't tell the whole school. The last thing I need is to give Dash more reasons to make fun of me."

And with that he left, biting down hard on his lip to keep from crying.

What he'd told Danny about Imaani's parents was true.


	4. Maittuq

**Author's Note:** So I jump the shark in this chapter by making things even more complicated. A glimpse of Tucker's parents, more of Imaani's town and life and general misunderstandings and angst go around. Hopefully I've kept everyone from being the worst character ever/designated villain so far. Go ahead and tell me if I've messed this whole thing up with this. Comments, ideas, criticism, and general remarks are all welcome. I'm still learning to write, as this fic clearly shows.

* * *

Tucker needed sadder music.

He flipped his iPhone onto the next song, one of the many 80's original Goth bands Sam had gotten him into. Between her, his own love of techno and Danny's love of indie rock, there should have been _something_ in there that would accurately capture how bottomless the world felt right now. He had never been a spiritual person, but he desperately hoped it was hormones. It was just hormones, and once he'd cried like an emo kid, he'd feel better afterwards, all he needed was the right music. He cruised by band after band, song after song, finding neither _Fields Of The Nephilim_ nor _Neon Trees_ offered anything substantial.

Aware that his satellite signal could be weak, he'd spent most of his time after dinner working on it. It was almost complete now, and he had to attach it to the side of the window to make sure it worked. This meant having his window open in his room, but it was okay. The readout said he was now operating at an internet speed even the Japanese would be enviable of. Although it would get cold in his room, he'd set up all his blankets in his closet, where the heat from the next room over as well as downstairs crept through. He could sit there and talk to Imaani like that all night, all weekend, if he wanted. Maybe it was a little obsessive. But then again, maybe he was a little tired of not being taken seriously.

He swallowed back a lump in his throat as she came into view, colors a little washed out on the screen. Tucker smiled at the dozen or so braids her hair was in today. He tried to remember enough Inuktitut to say something. Although her English was great, he was sure she'd used words and not told him the real meaning. It was the same as him saying 'I _like_ like you' and watching her not get the implications. It wasn't fair. One day he'd man up and say things to her the way they really were. Step one was being able to carry on a conversation with her in the first place.

"Qanuippit?" Tucker asked, struggling a little at what he considered to be the harder sounds.

Her weary smile bloomed into a sincere one. "Taqajuq, qujannamiik. Silasi qanuippa?"

His words were slower than hers, but they helped him focus on something besides the knocking on his door. "Nuvujajuq. Anuraaqtunni-"

The knocking became insistent. "I think you should answer that."

"I don't feel like being _laughed at_ again," he said loudly enough for his father to hear it on the other side of the door. "I think I'll sit in here and talk to my imaginary girlfriend instead."

"…Tucker-"

"Akautsianngittunga," he choked out, the _nng_s rolling off his tongue, his expression downfallen for an entirely different reason. "Danny talked to my parents. My parents think I'm making you up. And that's hilarious, isn't it? Good old Tucker, so pathetic he makes up a girlfriend in Canada, so far up north nobody will ever see her. It's funny, right?"

"None of this is funny, Tucker. None of it ever was. But I've got something that'll cheer you up – you remember that Brazilian ghost hunting team, how their YouTube stream went silent? Well it's been up like a beacon for four hours, nonstop content. This further proves the existence of ghosts! It'll make headlines everywhere! And they didn't have to endanger anyone like in Amity Park, either."

He felt his attention divert. "How'd they manage that?"

"Ghosts can't utilize ghostly powers on anything too close to scolecite. The team took cameras and wore Scolecite chip necklaces. They got enough footage and uploaded it to so many places it's going viral as we speak."

Tucker grinned. "That's amazing. We'll do a review and write ups for our blogs and spread the word. This validates your theories on there being truth in folktale and traditional ways of dealing with ghosts."

"I hope so! I was going to go see the ghost of Okolli Island, but Akiaq wouldn't let me go alone. He's getting supplies ready instead."

"You were trying to go twenty miles away on foot, of _course_ he wanted to get supplies. God, Imaani, you can't just go do things like that."

"But the SCIENCE, Tucker!"

"There's plenty of safe science here."

"I had equipment prepped," she pouted, but she was grinning. "I'll send you tons of footage when we go."

"Good. Otherwise I'd have to find some way to block the fifty million Danny Phantom videos out there."

They chuckled, and began loading up the videos.

* * *

Tucker's father sighed, walking downstairs to the dinner table, where Tucker's food stayed untouched.

"He's got it bad."

His wife nodded smugly. She'd called it.

"He's really serious."

Another nod.

"And I really messed this up."

"Honey, it's Tucker. Would he joke about a girl?"

"Well, I just thought… Canadian? Inuit? Geek? How many of those are out there?"

His wife rolled her eyes. "One. And the way the world works, he found her. That's how love is."

"But she's from some kind of reservation place. She can't be all that bright." He raised his hands as his wife gave him a sharp glare. "They don't have the resources we have. She's not bound to be a genius. I'm surprised she even speaks English." He chuckled. His wife's expression remained stony. "Come on, you can't seriously support his crush on some girl he'll never meet."

"Oh, I have objections. But they're miles away from matching up with _yours_."

* * *

Dawn found Imaani gently turning off her iPhone, having sent a message to Tucker to call her when he woke up. She looked around her small room in the house her grandparents had carved out for her family. Working with metals and stone had made insulating it a nightmare, but the solid sheet rock kept it grounded even in the worst of winds.

Her room was crammed with everything she had, every gizmo and gadget and half abandoned project, all the manuals on computers and communication and ghosts piling up high. There was no window in her room – it would only have let more cold in – so her shelves and boxes held everything they could, her clothes packed into four chests that she stored under her bed. The wooden frame was old and everyone expected it to go out some day, but it was the best they had. She had crammed her computer onto a small rectangle drawer set that faced away from her bed. Those drawers had all her school books in them as well as her diary and school bag. If she set her computer there she could plug it in and turn it so she could sit on her bed and use it.

Her tiny square of a room was also coated with gifts from Akiaq. He'd made her rugs and blankets until the entire household was convinced of his skills. He was trying so hard to make his father proud he didn't mind when his shoulder gave out from scraping hides, just put one arm in a sling and did his best to prepare them with the other. Imaani slipped into her boots, pulling on a long, thick _atigi_ he had sewn for her as a future wedding present. It was fur lined, caribou skin, long enough to go past the knees without making movement hard, and had served her well ever since she got it.

Akiaq was at his father's garage as always, working on repairing an old motorboat. He turned at the sound of her footsteps. "I found it on the bay and brought it in last night. I think it's a sinker from some other part of the bay, but if we look at it together, maybe we can get it going so you can go to Okolli."

"…you hauled this all the way in from the shore yourself? How did you even manage that?" Imaani asked, looking him over, well aware of his tendency to put himself last.

"I got my mom's dogs to help pull, and I put the base on a lengthy piece of sheetmetal. I attached the dog harnesses to the front and curved the back with tools so it wouldn't slip off. It's only a two-seater, so it wasn't too bad." He looked ready to toppled over, but his smile only faded when he saw her face. "Don't you like it?"

She pulled him close, embracing every lanky inch of him, burying her head in the fluff of his own hand-me-down parka, tears leaking out of her eyes. "You can't keep doing this. It's killing you. It was cold enough to freeze the Bay solid last night, you could've…"

"It's okay, Imaani. I'm tough." He seemed very convinced of this fact. "All my dad's sons are. And once you have a boat you'll be able to do your investigations like you always wanted. Everyone will be happier like this."

"I don't need you to die so I can be happy," she stressed, shaking her head violently, pulling away from him. "I don't want you to put yourself in danger for – for what? For a _boat_?"

"I just wanted to see you smile again," Akiaq said in a very small voice, and her eyes widened as she realized how deeply she'd wounded him. She reached for him, but he turned away, grabbing a rag. "I've got a lot of cleaning to do. Maybe you should come by later."

"Akiaq, I just-"

"Just drop by around dinner. I'll make this better, I promise. I'm sorry."

"Aki…"

He scrubbed at a black stain so vigorously that when he was done he could see his reflection in it. By that time, his wife to be had left, leaving behind nothing but footsteps in the early morning. He forced his eyes back onto the boat, feeling a cold emptiness in his chest he tried desperately to ignore. He would finish this, clean it until he could work on the technical damage, and then they would go out on the water together, and maybe then, maybe then she would kiss him. Akiaq would give anything to be kissed and have it mean something. His father had told him that Imaani was lucky they agreed to this arrangement at all, but he'd always felt it was the other way around. She was the smartest girl in all of Nunavut, maybe all of Canada.

For a while his father had tried to get him to win the affection of Qurlurniq. She was gorgeous, with a strong lineage and many friends, a gossip and social butterfly who knew everything about everyone. She could be charming when she wanted to be. But when he made her things, she often gave them away or forgot about them, lost in a sea of gifts she had from her many male admirers. Her parents had been smart in not promising her marriage to anyone. They always had enough for the fire at their house and they never lacked for food. They pushed her to be social and although he remembered her as an awkward and shy child, she'd learned her part well over the years. No one wanted to let their parents down. She did her best to be a charming traditional girl even when it strained her, unlike Imaani who flat out refused to play the game.

Qurlurniq had a smile that made Akiaq uneasy and a voice that never seemed quite right, and he said nothing. One of his coats for her had instead ended up in the hands of Ullaq, a remarkably bland looking, icy and vicious boy whose very expression melted when he caught sight of her. Ullaq had no siblings, his mother having died giving birth to him, and it was believed he was bad luck. Though he was extremely intelligent, good at improvising and a team player when it came to hunting, he was forever on the outskirts of Cape Dorset, figuratively and literally. Qurlurniq had kissed Akiaq once because she knew his angry, vindictive father was watching. That had been three months ago. Since then she was back to playing the field, able to have every boy in Cape Dorset except the one she wanted. Her plastic, almost artificial energy gave way to soft smiles when Ullaq was near.

As Akiaq was cleaning the boat, he heard the door open. Qurlurniq came in, looking grim. Her boots had been embroidered on by Akiaq himself, her coat was intricately patterned around the chest and the bottom of it was trimmed in fur tassels. Her bobbed black hair had two fake plastic yellow flowers in them. Ullaq had given them to her; Akiaq knew it because she wouldn't say where they were from and she was such a gossip and she would have made the giver of such an expensive and thoughtful gift known immediately. Sometimes she talked to fill the awkward silences or gaps in conversations with people. Sometimes her nervousness overcame any charming qualities she might have, and she was nothing but jitters and shaking limbs and a too-loud voice and teary doe black eyes. At moments like this it was easy to see her not as a bad person but just another fifteen year old kid.

"Your – your dad sent me to tell you," she swallowed a big gulp of air, "I didn't want to tell you, but he's so scary, I knew you didn't want to hear it from him, and I know I may have been rude to you but I like you, you've always been nice, so I…"

"Tell me what? Breathe." He set his dirty rags down, turning to her. "What happened? Is my family okay?"

"Yes," she nodded frantically. "This is worse."

"Is Imaani okay?"

"Well, um, see, she's part of what your dad asked me to ask you," she rambled, looking at the floor. "I'm so sorry, I don't want to do this to you, it's none of my business, or maybe it is but it's still going to hurt and…"

"And what?" Akiaq asked, utterly confused. "Spit it out."

"Imaani's birthday is soon. That means she'll be able to get married and so am I, so your father wants you to pick one of us." She held up a hand to stop his objections. "And before you say you want to marry Imaani, I found this by her desk at school. It must've fallen out by mistake. My – my mother said I had to be honest with a man if he was going to be my husband, that's why I'm showing it to you, I, I don't hate Imaani, I don' hate anyone! I don't love you! I just thought you should see what I found before you make the decision!"

He wanted to ask her why she didn't return it, but he found himself unable to speak at all as the implications of what he was seeing dawned on him. The picture showed a young black boy with startling robin's egg green eyes, his smile warm and cheerful. Imaani had been carrying it around, had written the boy's name in hearts all over the back. Everything was plain as day now. He was such a fool to think she ever thought of him as anything more than a pathetic charity case, an abused boy who needed coddling. This was who she really wanted.

Akiaq found himself in the consoling embrace of a girl for the second time that day as Qurlurniq tried to awkwardly console him, but he felt colder than if he had been alone.


End file.
